


Bad Cop

by Berrytron



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Caning, Dom/sub, Electrocution, Fingering, Humilation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Sticky, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berrytron/pseuds/Berrytron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you like it when I humiliate you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Cop

"Comfortable?" She asked. Prowl wriggled, testing his restraints. The cuffs held his trembling wrists firmly behind his back. From there, a flexible cable was wound tightly up his forearms and secured at the curve of his waist. His spine bent to accommodate the stretch in his shoulders, thrusting his chest forward. He caught her gaze momentarily before she stepped behind him, pulling his chain and collar taut. He shuddered, feeling the first drips of transfluid coalesce inside his straining panel.

"Good..." Arcee purred, kneeling to place an affectionate kiss beside his audial. He'd not half a moment of her warmth before she moved to retrieve the next set of equipment. Nervous tension rippled through his core as she slid the blindfold over his optics. Upon command, he obediently opened his mouth, allowing her to slip the ball-gag between his teeth and over his tongue, assuring not a single coherent word could be formed.

"One more thing." She teased, her voice scarcely above a whisper. In the darkness, he could only feel. Prowl sighed into the gag as the palm of her hand brushed over his thigh and then, in a swift motion, secured what he could only imagine was a magnetic valve clamp. "You won't be needing that right now." She hummed, giving the locked valve a hasty pat.

Prowl squirmed anxiously, eager to begin. "Blink". She said plainly. As rehearsed, Prowl flickered his bio-lights three times in rapid, rhythmic succession. He hadn't used them during a session as of yet, though he'd been tempted to give in prematurely nearly every time. "I expect I'll be seeing those very soon." She joked. Prowl could only grunt an objection, unable to speak. "No?" She interpreted. She gave the collar's chain a short tug, bringing Prowl's face crashing gently into her panel. He could smell her transfluids collecting beneath and ached for a taste, but the gag kept his tongue at a distance. She held that position momentarily, allowing him to briefly savor the thought of pleasuring her with his mouth.  "I think you're too eager to frag me." She teased, tightening her grip on his chain. The collar material ground painfully against his sensitive neck cables. "I don't think you're showing me the proper _respect_." On the final syllable, her open palm met the side of Prowl's face with an audible slap. He relinquished a muffled cry. No sooner than he raised his head again did she follow through with a second slap, equally as hard as the first.

His thighs trembled beneath him, already beginning to weaken under his weight. He moaned, tilting his head, begging silently for another hit. "I think you're enjoying this." Arcee supposed. He could sense her back away. He moaned in anticipation and let his head fall back clumsily, imagining what he must look like to her at that moment: legs spread, transfluid seeping between the tight seams of his panel, limbs bound and chest shamelessly displayed for her pleasure. He was shaken from his reverie by something cold, something that was not a hand.

"Do you know what this is?" She asked, tapping the object softly against Prowl's exposed chest. He could make an educated guess. "How many times in your life have you used it?" She continued. Prowl began squirming again, but his protests were met with a firm tug on his chain. "How many times did you use it?" She repeated more sternly, tapping consistently. "And how many times did you enjoy it?" A general sense of unease swelled up from his tanks as Arcee traced the line of his jaw with the tip of a baton, _his_ baton. How many times, he couldn't say. But had he enjoyed it? The humiliation of actions past rose quickly in his anxious state and were laid bare for her mockery, for her desire, for her pleasure. He moaned loudly.

"That's a good pet." She purred. "Or should I say, _a bad cop_." She snickered. Prowl choked on a sob. The clamp between his legs was becoming quite painful as his panel struggled to open with no success. "I'm right, aren't I?" She admonished, increasing the speed and intensity of each successive tap of the baton against his hood. Even in his addled state, he instinctively sought to retain his false dignity. He groaned and shook his head in protest. "No?!" She barked. Prowl vented, but his intakes were short and ragged. "Are you lying to me?" Another shake of disagreement. The baton came down hard against his chest. He cried out in conflicted pleasure, the gag doing very little to mask his screams. She repeated the question. Again, he struggled honorably, knowing his every defiance only fueled her need to dominate him. He began to lose count of the beatings shortly after he became unable to answer coherently.

"Do you want me to stop?" She continued aggressively. His chest had gone numb. A choking sensation filled his throat, a half sob, a half scream, muffled by the gag shoved halfway inside his mouth. His head slouched forward; Prowl was physically unable to keep his posture despite his continued lust for punishment. Arcee, pleased by this show of reluctant submission, allowed him this moment of rest. "Vent." She ordered. His systems felt like they were on fire. The first sharp intake of cool air nearly crashed his higher programming, and he was only caught from a near-faint by the chain and collar still pulled taut around his neck. Gradually, his mind began to clear and the burning pain on his hood became immensely prominent. He whimpered weakly.

Arcee slipped the blindfold from his eyes and the room became unexpectedly bright. He winced. "Are you going to scream?" She asked, cupping his chin tightly. He attempted to shake his head, but she held him firm. "If I remove your gag, will you scream?"

"Nnhfh" Prowl sniveled. Content with this ambiguous answer, Arcee began to undo the device. His mouth was aching and wet when she removed the gag and slipped her tongue inside, catching him unaware, gripping the sides of his helmet to tug him forcefully into an impassioned, dominating kiss. Prowl shivered violently when she pulled away.

"Mm, there's a sweet pet." She grinned, elevating herself above him. Chain still in hand, she stood to one side and placed her foot behind his neck, forcing his face to the ground in a sudden and violent manner. "Did you think I was finished with you yet?" She smirked. "Kneel, lower." Arcee commanded, holding her weight against his back. As ordered, he relaxed toward the ground until his cheek met the cold tile. "Curve your back, more, put your aft out. I want you to be really sexy for me." Thighs quivering, he obeyed. His spike pressed hard against his secured panel as he bent over, but Arcee did not reach to remove the clamp.

"This is a good look for you." She began tapping the exposed plating along his aft and thighs, warming it for what Prowl was assured would be another severe beating. He trembled in anticipation. "Do you like it", she inquired, "when I humiliate you?"

"Yes..." He moaned, without a second's hesitation. This answer seemed to please her greatly. She increased the intensity to his delight. "You _are_ enjoying this. Good." She purred. "But I'm still not convinced you're telling the truth." The first hit landed with a loud snap against his aft. He screamed.

"Go on, I want you to admit it, tell me you've been a bad cop."

"No!" He squirmed. He screeched sharply when the baton made a sharp crack against his aft.

"Wrong answer." She growled. "Try again." Arcee continued her assault, the count exceeding into double digits before Prowl lost his will to fight her any longer. He was only screams now, an incomprehensible slobbering of yes's and no's. The fluid from his mouth collected on the floor under his cheek in a sticky mess.

"When I removed you gag, you promised you wouldn't scream. Do you remember?"

"Yes!" He could barely speak. 

"So why are you screaming, then? Am I hurting you? Is it because you're a bad cop?" She interrogated.

"Yes!" His mind felt like it was stuck in a recursive loop.

"I'll stop when you give me the honest answer. Is Prowl a _bad cop_?"

Prowl sobbed openly. "Yes..." He submitted. 

"That's not an answer. Say it correctly!" She swung and hit the back of Prowl's thighs in quicker succession. He flinched at every impact, the pain of which was becoming unbearable. "Hold still!" She was almost laughing. Prowl found himself laughing with her.

"Say it. Say, 'I am a bad cop'." Arcee ordered. She had no intent of letting up until she heard the words from his lips.

"Ahh, I'm bad, I'm a bad cop!" He sobbed. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

Arcee shifted her foot and gave his hips rough nudge, sending him rolling sideways onto his back.

"Do you want me to release this?" She asked, moving quickly and violently to kneel her weight against his abdomen. She dropped the chain to his collar and tugged at the clamp. Prowl squirmed, but he was trapped beneath her knee. "You're trying my patience. Answer me." Arcee growled.

"Yes.." He sobbed. It was incredible how badly he wanted it removed and unbelievable how much he didn't.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, please. Please take it off. Please, Arcee. Please." His whimpers were her delight.

"So polite and respectful." She mused. She let her fingers brush over the seam of his panel. Prowl moaned at this affectionate touch, bucking his hips for more. "Are you always this sweet when you want something? _Or will you say anything to get what you want?_ "

His mind and body was consumed in pleasure. "I'll do it, I'll do anything, please." He began to choke again. His hips arched aggressively into her hand, but Arcee continued to hold him down with her leg and let her hand drop to the side.

"Anything?" She grinned wickedly. Arcee redirected her gaze to the baton still clutched in her palm. "Do you know what else this toy is good for?" She licked the tip playfully. Prowl began to panic.

"No... No..." He could only squeak, his throat tight from fear.

"In addition to beating pretty pets, it can also deliver a painful jolt of electricity. I'm sure you're familiar with it's more common use." She purred. Certainly, she couldn't be serious.

Prowl's attempts to crawl away were entirely unsuccessful.

"Here are your options." She traced the tip from chin to groin. "Option 1: I take your clamp off, but instead of my thick spike, I'll shove this baton deep into your valve. I'll frag you senseless with it and just before you overload... zap!" The baton landed on his valve cover with a snap, but it was not the jolt of electricity he was expecting. He screamed all the same.

She continued, unconcerned. "Option 2: I take your clamp off... and I use my fingers to bring you to overload."

Prowl interjected. "Option 2! Option 2..." He begged. A police baton was not intended to be used internally. Even a single shock to the outer plating could offline a bot twice his size, let alone what it could do when placed against the more delicate internal mesh. Prowl wasn't sure if Arcee was aware of this fact. For his own safety, he certainly hoped so.

"I wasn't finished." She growled, putting the whole of her weight against his belly whilst Prowl strained his core to keep her from crushing him. She raised the baton to his mouth, coating the tip in its leaking lubricant. "Option 2: I'll frag you with my fingers, but you have to suck this little toy until you overload." Arcee laughed as Prowl struggled to seal his lips. "Doesn't that sound fun? Doesn't it?" His struggles were in vain. She was too heavy. "Good choice, my pet. We'll do option 2."

"No..." Prowl sobbed, tossing and turning beneath her. His optics were wet with tears of fear. 

"Don't be afraid." Arcee coaxed. She began to undo the clamp. "You trust me, right?" She whispered, kissing his lips softly. "You can do this."

Prowl hesitantly tried to relax as she removed her weight. "Promise me you won't squirm. I can't keep my fingers inside of you if you start crawling away." She said. It wasn't as if he'd get far. The cables still held his arms behind his back and his shoulders ached painfully. With the weight of his chest bearing down on him, he doubted he could even roll over without his arms for support. Laying as comfortably as his restraints would allow, Prowl splayed his legs and his panel popped open easily. He moaned loudly as cool air met the hot circuitry. "Oh, very nice." Arcee's eyes lit up at the delectable sight. "You're very wet. That will make this quick."

"Ahhh, 'cee..." Prowl sighed loudly as she sunk two digits deep into his throbbing valve. It was a firm fit. He could have overloaded that minute had Arcee not returned the baton to his face. He felt the panic resume, squeezing his pounding spark. 

"Open your mouth, Prowl. You chose this." 

Prowl trembled anxiously, but he could not force his mouth to open. Arcee turned her attention back to his valve. "You're so tight." She began massaging his ceiling node as agilely as her fingers would allow. "Just think, if you would have chose option 1, you'd be leaking all over this rod right about now. It's fortunate you chose option 2, your valve is so tight you can barely fit my fingers, let alone this rod, let alone my _thick spike_. Isn't that what you really want?"

Prowl shuddered at the thought, his whole body convulsing in pleasure as he squeezed his valve tightly around Arcee's fingers. This brief distraction forced his lips to part in an inadvertent sigh. Arcee used the opportunity to force the baton between his teeth and toward the back of his throat. Prowl choked in surprise to find his mouth latched around the device. 

"Suck it." Arcee commanded sternly. Her fingers worked his valve roughly, turning and thrusting into every node. Reluctantly, Prowl began to suck. The metal was cold on his hot tongue. He tried to imagine it was a spike, her spike, but the fear of the reality kept flooding back. He flinched at every unexpected twitch of the rod.

"Are you afraid?" Arcee moaned. Prowl could see from the corner of his vision that her own spike had finally extended, erect and dripping with pre-fluid. His valve shuddered, aching to be filled. "You can't overload if you're afraid. Look at me."

Prowl looked into her optics. In the half-light, she was beautiful. "You have to trust me." She smiled wickedly. With a smile like that, it was hard to trust her. She'd betrayed his trust in the past, hadn't she? He struggled to remember anything before this moment. "Shh. Just suck. There you go. Just like a spike."

Prowl optics damped again with lubricant. In this moment, there was only her and her will alone. He gave into her desires and sucked.

"Very good. I promise I won't electrocute you. I promise..." She laughed. Prowl could sense his impending overload. He moaned onto the baton, swirling the tip with his tongue, his tanks churning in anxiety. His optics were fixated on Arcee's spike. He watched her pump her hips in vain. She too was nearing her limits. Arcee inserted a third finger and pressed deeper in his port.

"You're so close, Prowl, I can feel you trembling. Keep sucking." Her sighs became fervent. "Before you overload, I want you to ask permission. I want to know when you're about to overload. Can you do that for me?"

Prowled moaned a muffled agreement. For her, he would do anything. He bit down on the rod and bucked his hips, riding her hand with all the intensity he could muster. "Ahm" He started, but found his voice hoarse from screaming. 

"What's that? I can't hear you. There's something in your throat." She pushed the baton deeper until he gagged painfully. "Ahm gnna...mmm..."

"Shh. Not yet. Just a moment longer." Arcee pounded her fingers against his ceiling node, rocking nearly her entire fist into his shaking valve. "Alright, go one then. Say it."

"Ahm gonn c...mmm!" He spasmed, his optics offlining. His entire frame locked into position as his valve shuddered into an overload. In a sick anticipation, he awaited the jolt of electricity and the short, intense pain that would follow before going completely offline. Curiously, as his core slowly recovered and static cleared, the electrocution did not come. Prowl watched Arcee chuckle silently and lick her lips before he collapsed in a fit, sobbing with relief.

"Did you actually think I would do it?" She mocked. She took her fingers from his valve and mixed his fluids with hers before bringing the blend to her tongue. "Mmm. My poor little pet. My poor, pathetic, naive little pet. You thought I would hurt you." She offered him the saturated digits and he took them into his mouth hungrily. "Look." She held the electrocution button in the 'on' position. "It doesn't work. No battery." She cackled, providing Prowl's sensitive chest a few gentle taps before tossing the device into a corner. Prowl gave her fingers a playful bite, but she didn't seem to mind.

One hand now free, she wrapped it around her spike and stroked furiously. "I'll forgive you for mistrusting me, just this once." She rolled Prowl to his side to begin unfastening his bonds. When he was finally loose, it still felt as though he were tied down. Every inch of his body ached and burned. Arcee had to flip him on to his backside herself before sliding her spike effortlessly in to Prowl's gaping valve.

She was so silent, so in control of her body. Prowl admired the way she could retain her composure as she endured what must have been a kind of torture of her own self. Yet, he knew that was how she preferred it. He tossed his head back, letting his body go limp as she took him. His sighs were short and airy, his vents shallow and hot. Words of nonsense poured out of his vocalizer as he gave himself to her. Another overload hastened to overtake him and his body trembled and twitched with every sharp thrust against the depth of his clenching valve. He placed his shaking hands around her hips as he came again, moaning fervently.

"Ah, Prowl." She choked, venting heavily. "You're so good. Such a good pet, my good cop." Her powerful hips locked into position and she gripped the bars on his chest as she powered through her overload, her optics offlining as she collapsed against his chest, shuddering intensely. They lay like that for a minute, frames quivering in exhaustion. Arcee was the first to rise, squeezing her thighs around Prowl's midsection to kneel over him and pull him into a sloppy kiss.

"You didn't blink." She noted. Prowl continued to kiss her, nipping her lips gently with his teeth.

"I didn't need to."

Arcee smiled proudly and left it at that. "Are you sore?" She asked quietly, melting her own kisses into his neck.

Prowl cleared his throat, but he was still hoarse. "Hmm. What do you think?" He smiled, pulling his arms around her body and delivering tiny kisses of his own.

"You'll feel it tomorrow." She chided. She rose up on to her elbows and brushed her fingers lazily over his crest. "You won't be able to sit for a week."

"Three days. I'll be able to sit, but I won't like it."

"I've got some place comfortable where you can sit." She hummed, grinding her hips against his. Prowl's valve twitched at the thought despite his utter exhaustion. He could feel a power-down approaching quickly, but was too sore and comfortable to make a move to the berth. 

"We'll see. Later, maybe." Prowl yawned, his consciousness rapidly deteriorating. He nuzzled into Arcee's shoulder and vented deeply.

 


End file.
